


As Long As He Needs You

by chapscher



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail as Wally, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Chiyoh/Molly and Hannigram swap, Complete but I am not opposed to adding more, Divorce, F/F, F/M, Guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 06:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14099160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chapscher/pseuds/chapscher
Summary: After Molly and Chiyoh's disappearance, Will was left to pick up the pieces and, once again, raise Abigail as a single father. It has been several months since he has lost contact with his wife but Will is still waiting for closure, even as Abigail grows distant. Finally, one night when the two are cut off from the world, the answers Will had been waiting for arrive.Written for #InYourSkin





	As Long As He Needs You

The phone wasn’t working again. Will knew that he was in a valley and that the signal wasn’t always reliable, but now it just seemed like one more thing that had gone wrong. He noticed he had very little tolerance for these sorts of things anymore, and hearing the dial tone when he wanted to return his boss’ phone call that evening was enough to make him want to turn in early. It’s not like the phone problem was anything new, but ever since Molly had disappeared it just made it all the more apparent. And Jack Crawford had told him to keep the lines open in case there was any news about her whereabouts.

He knew as soon as Jack Crawford had come into his boat repair shop that Chiyoh would appear in Molly’s life once again. It wasn’t right. He had watched Molly try to free herself from the person Chiyoh had turned her into. Back when she and Will were courting she confessed that Chiyoh had led her to kill people. To eat them. It was all essential to survive in Chiyoh’s world; and given the number of scars she left on Molly, Will wondered just how possible survival with someone like her could be.

He heard a rustling come from Abigail’s room down the hall, which could only mean that the internet had stopped working too. Molly’s absence didn’t hit Abigail as hard as he thought it would, and he wasn’t sure if this was good or bad for her wellbeing. It probably wasn’t doing her any favors. She had become distant, full of quiet anger at both Molly for leaving them and Will for bringing her into their life.

“Da?” she asked, stepping into the living room. “Did you reset the router?”

“No, it looks like our lovely provider is resetting things for us all on their own.” He sighed and placed the receiver of the landline back down onto its cradle. “I suppose if Detective Crawford tries to reach us in the next half-hour or so that’s just bad luck.”

“You don’t really think he would, do you?”

“No. No, I suppose I don’t.” He decided to change the subject. “Did you finish your homework?”

“No, but I saved all the articles I need. Hey, is it just me or has our connection gotten worse these past few days?”

“It’s not just you. I think I’ll have to call them tomorrow and tell them to either give us decent service or stop charging us so much every month. I know they slow it down every once in a while. At least this time I can tell them that I’m expected to get contacted by the FBI. Maybe they’ll listen then.”

Abigail was about to say something when several of the dogs that were resting in the living room suddenly jolted up, alert. They ran to the windows, barking and Will instinctively put himself between Abigail and the door. There was the distinct crunch of wheels over the gravel driveway and Will felt a pit in his stomach as his pulse began to race. Abigail turned and went back down the hall and towards Will’s bedroom; more likely than not to fetch the pistol out of its lock box. Will never kept guns in the house before, but after what had happened with Francis Dolarhyde he accepted that it was necessary.

No. His exact words he said to Abigail when he brought it home was that they would “need it as long as Chiyoh was alive.”

Outside he heard car doors open and close and in that moment he realized that he was standing alone in the living room as his only daughter went to arm herself against whatever was lurking outside. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want to alarm her. Perhaps he still wasn’t ready to accept the very dire reality of his situation.

If it’s an intruder, it will be the last here, Will decided as he stepped over dogs and took an iron poker from the fireplace kit. They would move if someone else breaks in. They should have moved out months ago. They should have moved when news from Jack slowed to a crawl. They should have moved after the detectives said that Molly and Chiyoh’s bodies were never recovered in the ocean below that bluff-house cliff. They should have moved out after he got up at four in the morning to find Abigail curled up among the dogs in the living room, too frightened to sleep.

Steps on the porch. The dogs continued to bark at the door, jumping up and scratching at the wood. Will only stood there, trying to listen to whoever was outside. Trying to listen for where Abigail was in the house. But amid the rushing current of dogs around him and the sound of short claws against a hardwood floor, Will had to admit that he was unable to hear anything. So instead of going to the door or going to comfort Abigail, he simply tightened his grip on the fireplace poker.

There were shadows of two bodies visible through the blind-covered window. They moved as if they spoke softly to each other, exchanging something between their hands. Will was certain that the next thing he would hear would be the doorbell, but his heart tied itself in his throat when instead one of the figures opened the storm door.

Perhaps whoever it was wanted to knock.

The doorknob rattled.

Will tried in vain to pull his dogs away from the door, but each and every one of them was now there. They barked their shouts at the covered window, their scratching and the jingling of their collars echoing Will’s own racing heart. And every wall he built around his mind to protect himself from his horrible reality crumbled to rubble as the door opened.

A hand reached down and pet the nearest dog. “Hey there. Hey, buddy.”

The dogs tripped over themselves and pushed the door open to reveal Molly standing there in a heavy winter coat. The dogs’ tails thumped against the ground and one of them ran back and forth between Will and Molly, panting happily. She smiled and kissed each one of the forehead, petting them in a way that made the tags on their collars chime. It was as if Molly didn’t even notice Will as her pack of strays swarmed her. Will wanted to watch her, to wonder if it really was her in their cozy living room once more. But as the second figure stepped into the doorway he felt as if she was torn away from him again.

Chiyoh stood by Molly’s side, her eyes locked with Will’s. Chiyoh, who had covered Molly’s body, mind, and soul with countless scars that will never fully heal. Chiyoh, whose name was uttered by every news anchor across the world as the one responsible for countless people murdered and fed to the social elite. Chiyoh, who had once written to Will and spoke as if Molly was her wife rather than his own. Chiyoh, ‘Cannibal Chiyoh,’ walked into Will Graham’s living room, stepping over dogs as she narrowed the distance between them. She studied Will, her piercing dark eyes boring into him. He hated eye-contact. He hated wondering what about him that Chiyoh was able to read so easily. Her eyes glanced down to the fireplace poker in Will’s hand and he immediately, as if his will were not his own, set it aside.

“Molly?” was all Will was able to say.

She knelt, petting the dogs, and looked up at him for the first time in months. Will wanted to think that she looked entirely different. Part of him wished that she would have aged years since he last saw her. But she didn't. She looked almost exactly as she did when she visited him in the hospital. There was a new scar on her cheek, and Will didn't doubt that Chiyoh had put it there.

Molly held a manila envelope, shifting it from hand to hand before she lifted herself off the floor.

“Will,” she said. “Can we talk?”

Will nodded, dread settling in him like a fog as he realized that he already knew what was in that envelope. With a silent nod he led Molly to their kitchen, but he hesitated when he realized that Chiyoh had no intention to follow. A serial killer was going to be left alone with his dogs; and Abigail was only a few doors down the hall.

“She’s not here to hurt anyone,” Molly said, standing in the archway leading to the kitchen. “I promise, Will.”

He nodded, but less in agreement and more in acceptance that he had no choice in the matter. Nevertheless, he followed Molly into the brightness of the kitchen. 

In the harsh overhead lighting Will could see Molly’s scar more clearly. It was ragged and carved into her; her skin puckered unevenly along what had been the soft fullness of her cheek. Will instinctively cupped Molly’s face in his hands and traced his thumb along the mark.

“Did she do this to you?” Will whispered.

“No.”

“You can tell me, Molly. I know she’s done so much already.”

He reached to brush aside her bangs and reveal the scar left by a bone saw from when Chiyoh had attempted to remove her brain. Molly moved away before Will could touch her hair. He had kissed so many of her scars countless times, that one especially. At the time he had hoped that he could somehow replace the pain of her past with something gentler, but now he began to wonder if he was only reminding her of Chiyoh each time. And, as he had come to accept, anyone in Molly’s life now can only stand in Chiyoh’s shadow.

“She didn’t do this,” Molly said as she stepped out of Will’s touch. “Dolarhyde did.”

“What happened to you?” Will asked, his voice still nothing louder than a sigh. “You disappeared. I was told to wait for a body to turn up. What happened, Molly?”

“I can’t explain.”

“Try.”

“I can’t leave her, Will.”

“Why? Because she’ll kill you if you do?”

“That’s not why.”

“Then tell me.”

Molly said nothing as she set the envelope down on the counter. In the years he had known her, Molly had never been anything other than honest and direct with him. She was blunt about her relationship with Chiyoh when she did speak about it, even back when they were dating. One of the first things she said about Chiyoh was that talking with her is like entering a labyrinth. The deeper you go, the more of her you understand, but the more lost you become to the rest of the world. Will hadn’t judged her for it. He had even told her that getting lost in other’s labyrinths is a quality of highly intelligent and empathetic people. And he truly did believe that.

But now that it’s happened again, he wasn’t sure what he thought. He had no idea what Molly was thinking when she stayed on the case after Jack told her to involve Chiyoh. But this wasn’t the work of empathy as much as it was one of pride. Or arrogance. Or foolishness. But it was all so unlike Molly.

In all these years when he asked Molly to define her relationship with Chiyoh she had offered simple explanations. That Chiyoh was her therapist and they had developed a friendship, which was then betrayed by Chiyoh, then by Molly, and back and forth until Molly told her she didn’t want to do this any longer and Chiyoh turned herself in. She told Will about how she and Chiyoh had once planned to adopt a son, Wally, together. How Chiyoh killed him and cut Molly in a way that gave her a partial hysterectomy. How she traveled to Europe in a sailboat, wanting revenge but unable to act upon it. She had offered stories and explanations, but Will always wondered if there was perhaps something else about Molly and Chiyoh’s relationship that had been left unsaid.

Molly took a deep breath. “I never should have gotten you involved in this.”

“Molly?”

“I knew, Will. I knew that she would never really be gone. I thought about her. I thought about her every day I spent with you.”

“You were afraid.”

“I missed her.”

Will shook his head. “These things happen. Sometimes when you go through trauma you remember it as a time of intense emotions. And things can seem… dull in comparison. But you don't want that. You don't want to go back to that. You don’t want that kind of hurt.”

“You think I don’t understand what I want?”

“No, I-”

“But you do.”

“What I meant is-”

“Are you psychoanalyzing me, Will? Are you trying to pick me apart and figure out how I work? Do you think you have all the answers?”

“I’m just saying what Abigail’s therapist said to me!” Will bit his tongue and took a deep breath, reminding himself not to raise his voice. He wasn’t upset with Molly. This wasn’t her fault. Or, at least, he didn’t want it to be. “I… I just thought that you could find some use in it.”

“Abigail’s been seeing a therapist?”

“Yes,” Will said, his voice tight. He didn’t like thinking about the days leading up to that first appointment. He didn’t like remembering how long he had silently wept in his bedroom after she told him that she needed to talk to a professional. He had been so moved by her self-awareness and bravery in contrast to his own impulse to repress the pain his family had felt. “Yes, she has. By her own decision.”

“Does, um…” Molly ran her fingers through her hair in thought, for a second exposing the long horizontal scar on her forehead. “Does she get along with her therapist?”

“They seem to be a decent match.”

“That’s good. That’s… that’s very good. She shouldn’t be with someone who would prod at her and just see her as a case number to write a book about. But then, I haven’t exactly seen the best the psychiatry has to offer. Especially while under Chilton’s care.”

“Among others.”

Will’s words dropped between him and Molly like a wedge, digging between polite conversation and their immediate reality. He didn’t intend to have that kind of an effect, but didn’t shy away from it either. Molly only nodded slowly, taking in the ultimatum that Will had voiced in so many words. She had to choose between him and Chiyoh, and they both knew exactly where her heart would fall.

“I brought papers,” she said, picking the envelope off the counter and handing it to Will. “It’s not right for me to keep you involved in any nightmares I’ve created.”

Will took the envelope. There was something hard, round, and circular that had fell to the bottom corner. He pressed down on the paper and watched as the imprint of a ring appeared.

She sighed. “I walked into a relationship knowing that I wasn’t able to let go of her. And that wasn’t fair to you. I thought it could fade with time but it didn’t. I don’t think it ever will.”

Will opened the envelope and removed the first sheet. The top line read _Declaration for Simplified Divorce_.

“I’m not asking for anything,” Molly said as she watched Will read. “I don’t want any of our money, I don’t want an alimony, I don’t want the house, I don’t want custody. Anything I walked into this relationship with is yours. Even though I know that wasn’t much. I want this to be as clean and easy for you as possible.”

Will’s eyes scanned over the document, not entirely registering what it was he saw. Of course it was anticipated. He had even wondered how he could file for divorce in Molly’s absence. But he had never held the papers in his hands. He had never read it, filling in the blanks with his and Molly’s names.

“I signed it and so did the notary. You shouldn’t need a lawyer, and I’m sure that money won’t be an issue, but I have a few bars of silver in my dress workshop that I want you to have. They’re all in the drawers under the sewing table. Three of them. Just in case there are any legal fees.”

“‘Point four,’” Will read aloud. “‘Reason for dissolution of marriage: Our marriage is irretrievably broken.’”   

Molly only nodded and it felt like a weight had been chained to his heart, anchoring him to those words. “Irretrievably broken.” He wanted to shake his head, to deny the ugliness of the idea, but it was true. And he could blame Chiyoh all he wanted, but he knew that they were written onto _his_ papers. That they ultimately described _his_ marriage. And for a moment he blamed himself for all of it. For not being more affectionate, for being too overbearing, for not helping Abigail see Molly as a maternal figure, for having the audacity to want a wife at all when Abigail was so accustomed to life with a single father. For not begging her to not return to the FBI. For not slamming the door in Jack’s face as soon as he introduced himself.

He choked on a sob and covered his mouth as tears formed in his eyes. Molly nudged the papers aside and stepped into Will’s arms. He cradled her, resting his cheek against her hair as she held him.

“You deserve love, Will,” she said. “You deserve someone who can give you their full attention and their full heart. You’re a good person and I really do think you’ll find that one day. I wish I could have been able to give that to you. And I did try but… I’m sorry.”

“Molly, I-”

There was a sudden stir in the next room as the dogs started barking all over again.

“I said get out of my house, bitch!”

Will immediately let go of Molly and ran back into the living room to see Abigail holding a pistol and pointing it at Chiyoh. Chiyoh stood perfectly still, staring down Abigail and studying her curiously as the teenager’s hands shook and tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Abigail,” Will said sternly as he approached her. “Abigail, don’t do this.”

“Why not?” she asked, flinching as her own voice clearly came out louder than she intended. “She’s killed people. She told Dolarhyde to kill us. She ruined our family, Da. She ruined everything.”

“Abigail,” Molly said as she slowly approached her. “Abigail, put the gun down.”

“No! I don’t have to listen to you anymore! You left, remember? You left because of _her_. You were never really here because of _her_! And… and…” Abigail’s eyes shifted to something past Chiyoh. To something standing on the other side of the front door. “Who’s that? Molly, who is that? Who the fuck is that?”

“Put the gun down.”

The voice was male, heavily accented, and came from outside. Will turned to see a man dressed all in black standing on the other side of the doorway. He stepped forward slowly, the low light of the living room casting defined shadows around his cheekbones and the ridge of his brow. His eyes were dark and expressionless, focused on Abigail as he raised his shotgun.

“No!” Will immediately put himself between Abigail and the man in the doorway. “Get out of my house!”

“She needs to stop aiming her pistol at Lady Chiyoh,” the man said, his voice as void of emotion as his eyes. “Move out of the way.”

Will took a hesitant step towards the man.

“This trigger has a three-pound pull. I’m holding two of it.”

Chiyoh put out her hand, lightly touching the side of the shotgun.

“Will,” she said firmly. “We need Abigail to put the gun down.”

Will glanced between Chiyoh and the armed man, the two equally cool in temperament and, apparently, equally dangerous.

“Abby?” Will said, not moving out of the man’s line of fire. “Abby, we need you to put the gun down.”

Will couldn’t see her, but he could hear a choke of a cry come from behind him. “She’s right there. She’s standing right there. Why isn’t there anything we can do when she’s standing _right there_?”

“I know.”

Chiyoh tilted her head back towards Abigail. Her expression was steady and as calculating as a chess grandmaster. It was as if she knew that this would happen before she even walked into the house and she knew exactly what would happen next. She had accurately predicted every move, every word, and spoke as if she had already lived the timeline of every future.

“Would you really sacrifice your father for the opportunity to kill me?” Chiyoh was focused, watching and listening as her words hit the child. “You’re not a killer, Abigail. You may think you are for me… but not for him.”

Will would have given anything to turn around and wrap Abigail in his arms as he heard her start to cry, but he didn’t dare turn his back on the man who was threatening her. He heard Molly approach her as Abigail’s hands fell to her sides. The shotgun was still pointed at Will and Abigail when Will heard her give the gun to Molly. It was only then that the man at the door lowered his weapon, but not entirely.

“I’m sorry that you two had to meet like this,” Chiyoh said, turning her attention to Will. “But, unfortunately, his service became necessary.”

“Will?” Molly said as she approached him and unloaded the gun in her hands, setting it aside. “I know there will be dangerous people who will be looking for Chiyoh. And they have tried to get to her through me before, several times. Like I’ve said before, I don’t want you to have to be involved in this.”

Chiyoh nodded. “Hannibal is an excellent marksman who has saved my life many times. And now it is my wish that his services be extended to you.”

The man lowered his gun completely and bowed his head.

“I…” Will started, amazed that he was able to sound as calm as he did when his heart still pounded in fury. “I respectfully decline.”

“Will,” Molly urged. “I know you don’t think so right now, but I promise you that you will be far safer with him here than not. He was only trying to protect Chiyoh. I was hoping that he wouldn’t have to.”

“He has recently purchased a cabin down the road,” Chiyoh said. “He will be nearby and keep watch in case of emergencies. Under him, what happened with Dolarhyde will never happen again.”

“If memory serves,” Will said, “ _you_ were what happened with Dolarhyde.” He took a shaking breath as he rubbed at his face. “And I think it’s time that all of you leave.”

Chiyoh motioned Hannibal back out the door as Molly said goodbye to Abigail. Will turned and watched as his daughter refused to offer Molly any well-wishes or even look at her. When it came to Molly she had always been distant. Stubborn. She had never fully accepted her into the family and Will thought that perhaps he should have paid more attention to that. Maybe then none of this would have happened.

“I can’t expect you to keep this from Jack,” Molly said as she approached Will. “And if that is your moral obligation I won’t keep you from it. But Chiyoh and I will be far away by the time your phone comes back on the line. And Chiyoh didn’t tell Hannibal where we’re going. All he’s done is protect us for the past few months. I know I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him. I wouldn’t have been able to come back here and see you this one last time.”

Will nodded, closing his eyes as Molly leaned in and kissed him once on the cheek. If there was anything he could say, the words didn’t come to him. Any of the speeches he had imagined he would give her if he ever saw her again had all seemed pointless as she stood before the door, ready to leave him forever and continue her life with Chiyoh. A life worlds away from anything Will could ever be familiar with.

The mastiff Randy nudged at Molly’s hand, licking her fingers and looking up at her. It wouldn’t have been too far off-base for Will to think that she would miss the dog just as much if not more than she would miss him.

“I’m sorry, boy,” she said, kneeling down to hold him as he licked her face. “I never got to say goodbye before.”

“Take him,” Will said before he could even question himself. “If it’s alright with Abby, I mean. Abby?”

He looked back and saw Abigail half-hidden in the shadow of the hallway. She nodded, but looked sickened by the whole affair.

“He’s been looking for you every day,” Will said as he took a leash from its hook by the door and handed it to Molly. “He’s been worried and stopped eating for a while and just… don’t do that to him again.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Molly said as Randy kept licking her hands and cheeks. “I promise you that. And so will Chiyoh.”

“Are you-”

“I know how it sounds, Will. But she would never hurt an animal.”

Molly smiled as Randy’s tail thumped against the side of the couch in excitement as soon as she clipped the leash onto his collar. It was the first time Molly had smiled since she came in, surrounded by adoring dogs who only remembered her for her loving nature. When she stood he ran in circles around her, eagerly stamping at the ground and looking between Molly and the door. Will tried to pet him at least once to say goodbye, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Molly kissed Will’s cheek again and thanked him before saying goodbye for one last time. He returned the sentiment, he was sure, although in the moments that followed he didn’t remember it. His mind was scattered in every direction and he was unable to focus at all in those moments. It all just felt like Molly had come back in, taken what she wanted, and left. She explained herself, but didn’t try to make amends. She didn’t give Abigail any words of comfort. She didn’t even want to collect her clothes.

Will watched as Molly stood and walked Randy out the door, Will having to pick up one of the smaller dogs to keep from running out after him. Out on the porch Chiyoh looked between Randy and Molly, smiling faintly. The dog licked at Chiyoh’s hands with a sort of familiarity that Will didn’t like thinking about.

He never asked Molly about the rumors he read online about Chiyoh feeding the dogs human flesh.

Will stood in the doorway, holding the small terrier in his arms as he watched Molly and Chiyoh. He tried not to think about the guilt he would feel when he would inevitably read about Molly’s death at Chiyoh’s hands. He thought back to everything that happened that night, wondering if, at any point, there would have been something he could have done to stop this. He wasn’t asking to save their marriage, just her.

He opened his mouth to speak. To tell Chiyoh to appreciate Molly. To remind her that Molly’s love was a rare gift. To say goodbye, knowing that he was speaking to the one person who had always held Molly’s heart. But as Chiyoh looked at Will he only nodded in farewell. She smiled, very faintly, and bowed her head in acknowledgement to everything that had ever happened between them from the moment Will and Molly first met.

“Will Graham?” Hannibal said. “I-”

“No.” Will turned to him. “You came into my house uninvited and threatened to shoot my daughter. I have nothing more to say to you other than I hope to never see you again. I acknowledge what you did for Molly, but if you ever step onto my property again I’ll alert the FBI, they will find you, and they will take you away and I don’t care what happens after that.”

“I only-”

“I think we’re done here.”

Without another word, Will turned around and went back into the house, closing the door behind him. The dog in Will’s arms squirmed until Will set him down onto the floor. His back against the door, Will sat down among the dogs, who were all still sniffing and curious about what had just happened. Abigail had come out of the hallway and stood against the wall, eyes fixated on the shadows moving outside the window.

“Da?”

Will sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling exhausted. “She came to serve me the divorce papers. She’s not asking for anything, so you don’t have to worry about the house or custody or anything like that.”

“I’m more worried that she would come back.”

“I… I don’t think so,” Will said. “She has all she needs. She even has Randy. And after I sign the papers she won’t have any more business here. I’ll have to go down to the courthouse on Monday to take care of that, I suppose. Everything’s on the kitchen counter if you want to see the agreement. I have yet to read it myself, actually.”

Abigail disappeared into the kitchen, a few of the dogs following her. Winston, a handsome mix of a stray that had always been as loyal to Will as Randy was to Molly, approached Will and put his head on his lap. Will pet him, fingers sliding through long, rust colored fur as he closed his eyes, hoping that this was the end of Molly’s chapter in his life.

In the new silence of the house he heard voices outside. They hadn’t yet left the porch.

“He was quite clear with his sentiments,” Hannibal said.

Molly answered, “Perhaps pointing a shotgun at his daughter wasn’t the most diplomatic route.”

“Wasn’t it?” His voice was bitter. “I would argue that one wouldn’t have been able to tell based on your reaction. If anything, you seemed to be checking my aim.”

“Enough,” Chiyoh said. “Molly, you and Randy wait for me in the car. Hannibal? A word?”

There was a soft rattle of dog tags as Molly led Randy off the porch, her footsteps making the old wooden stairs creak.

“I wanted to thank you, Hannibal,” Chiyoh said. “For protecting me, for watching after my homes, for saving both my life and Molly’s. You’ve done so much for me and I already owe you so much. Making sure that Will and Abigail are safe… that’s the last I will ever ask of you. Any burden created by Molly or myself I want to leave at this doorstep tonight.”

“He’s not interested in my service,” Hannibal said. “I think I should respect his wishes.”

“If I must invoke the name of Aunt Murasaki then I will.” Her voice was direct and met with silence. “We all know that there are dangerous people who will try to use Will to get to me. I want to make sure that this doesn’t happen.”

“For how long?”

Chiyoh hesitated. “Until… I am no longer a variable. Until Molly is gone. And then, after that, for as long as he needs you.”

“If one were to ask him,” Hannibal said, his voice fading as both he and Chiyoh walked towards the porch steps. “I don’t think he needs me at all right now.”

“That will change,” was the last thing Will heard from Chiyoh as she left Hannibal alone on the porch.

A car door. An engine. The sound of wheels against gravel fading into the distance.

And then nothing. Wind in the trees, still leafless in the early spring. Hannibal took a step to the door, stopped, and then walked away without another word. His footfalls along the dirt path were barely audible over the soft rustling of paper from the kitchen as Abigail turned from one page to the next.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few ideas of how I can continue this and explore a Hannigram storyline in this format (perhaps bumping the rating up to "explicit", although that's not *strictly* necessary), but given several other Hannibal-related projects I have going, I think I'd only continue this upon request.


End file.
